Spoils
by ItFeelsSoWrite
Summary: Based off of a writing prompt: Childhood Naomily, where Gina and Jenna meet at a mother's club, hit things off and take their daughters to the park for a play date while they talk. I took some liberties. Cheeky seven year-olds, Mommy heart-to-hearts and the best game of Red Rover you'll ever read about! One-Shot Naomily.


"Thank you everyone for coming! We're very excited at the turnout we've received, but our RSVP suggests that we have a few stragglers running behind. Since this is our first meeting and traffic can be such a bother around this time, we're going to go ahead and hold the activities for another ten minutes; see if we can't get a few more parents and kiddos on board. There are juice boxes and water bottles in the coolers. Please help yourself!"

A few scattered claps from the children present followed after the cheery announcer as she stepped out of the limelight to mingle with a handful of couples beckoning her attention. Naomi hadn't been one to applaud. Quite frankly, she wasn't sure what they were clapping for. Not every nicely-dressed lady smelling faintly of patchouli and baked goods deserved a round of applause for a few sentences spoken over a murmuring crowd. Even less so for extending this experimental community pow-wow a further ten minutes.

"P.A.L.S" is what they were calling it, at least from what the rainbow-hued, home-made banner suggested. "Parents And Little Schoolers," Gina read aloud after hearing Naomi quietly trying to make sense of how "sch" should be pronounced. Naomi exhaled sharply through her nostrils, frowning up at Gina the most disapproving frown a seven year-old could muster.

"I don't need your help," Naomi asserted, just in case her face wasn't sending the message clear enough, jamming her small fists as deep into her overall pockets as the stitching would allow.

Gina ruffled the petulant girl's blonde bowl-cut, smiling down at her. "I know, peanut."

Rolling her eyes, complete with a dramatic sigh worthy of the movies, Naomi stepped a handful of paces out of her mother's reach, desperately smoothing her hair back in place. When it became evident that Gina had no intention of furthering Naomi's embarrassment, the lanky girl's slumped shoulders and scowl melted. Not too keen on interacting with anyone her height, but enjoying the momentary freedom, Naomi did what she was prone to do. She observed.

Most children had arrived with both of their parents, a handful of mommies doing their best to keep their rambunctious, snotty or otherwise fussy children from pouring out from beneath the shade of the park's picnic pavilion onto the playground. A majority of the dads clumped together around the coolers, talking amidst themselves while keeping sharp lookouts for little ones or wives within earshot. Naomi, naturally curious as to their secrecy, easily noticed the small flask being passed between a huddle of younger-looking fathers, each one tipping a small amount of its contents into their festive solo cups. She couldn't possibly know how fun that could be until much, much later.

"Emily, please. We're already late as it is. Will you come here?"

Naomi's head turned in the direction of the suddenly-appearing voice as a brunette woman with a stern brow and rosebud lipstick clicked past her, stopping at the very edge of the cemented floor, no doubt reluctant to aerate the lawn stretched before her with her heels. Bending down slightly, she ushered for her daughter to uproot herself from where she stood, yards away, staring wide-eyed at the crowd of strangers in the pavilion.

"Emily!"

The small girl snapped to at the disciplinary tone in her mother's voice. Despite the nervousness still dancing in her eyes, she hurried across the grass, the monumental black-and-white checkered bow perched atop her head wobbling precariously. The moment she was in arm's reach, her mother knelt down and re-secured the excessive accessory, snapping it firmly into place just above the ponytail the little girl's brunette bangs had been pulled back in.

Curious for a closer look, Naomi gravitated to her mother's side, lingering just behind Gina's thigh as they approached the flustered mother-daughter duo.

"Is that your daughter? She looks just like you," Gina remarked in a praising tone, bending down slightly to meet Emily with a smile and wave.

Frankly, Naomi disagreed.

Besides the perpetual thin-lipped expression of judgment the mother seemed to cast at anyone she glanced at, her eyes were lighter. Colder. Emily, who kept her gaze to the ground most of the time, had warm, deep brown eyes that took on an amber hue any time the sun caught them at just the right angle. Her face was round and sweet, not yet quite rid of her baby fat. Her bubblegum-pink lips seemed to have a natural purse to them, as if she was constantly on the verge of saying something but thinking better of it. Emily looked . . . kind.

"Oh. Thank you. Uhm-"

"Gina. Gina Campbell," Gina curtsied sans arm movements, bobbing at both the head and the knees just slightly.

"Jenna Fitch," Emily's mother offered in kind, one hand clutching lightly at the shoulder strap of her slim briefcase, the other resting at Emily's shoulder protectively.

"This one's mine," Gina reached behind her, pressing her palm between Naomi's shoulders to goad the lurker in front of her. "We match too!" Wrapping an arm around Naomi's shoulder, Gina pulled the girl to her side, running her fingers across Naomi's scalp to reveal the slightest hint of brown roots before doing the same to her own hair, bowing her head for Jenna to see.

Jenna seemed more appalled than impressed. "You bleached your baby's hair?"

"Well, I can't have people thinking I kidnapped her, can I? Besides, it's the first thing she's let me do to it that she actually likes. I take my cool mom points where I can get them."

With her head lulled against her mother's hip as Gina continued to pet her and Jenna too busy trying to maintain a polite smile atop a look of consternation, Naomi knew she could get away with it. Seizing the opportunity with no repercussions, Naomi rolled her eyes to the heavens and expelled a quiet sigh.

A soft snort of laughter drew Naomi's gaze back to Emily. She was surprised to find the shy girl looking directly back at her, trying her best to stifle a smile.

Naomi suddenly felt very self-aware.

"Okay! Everybody!" the speaker from earlier projected as she situated herself in the middle of the pavilion, stepping up on one of the picnic table benches. She waited a moment for the rabble to drop down to an occasional whisper before continuing. "I think we can all agree that we are eager to get the ball rolling, so without further ado in just a few moments could I please have parents come gather to my right and children to my left. Volunteers will be handing out name tags and sharpies. Please fill them out for your little ones before handing them off to our master of games!"

As the volunteers came around, Naomi reached up to accept a name-tag sticker and marker, but she was overlooked in favor of Gina, who took name-tags for the both of them, filling one out before handing Naomi hers blank along with the sharpie and a wink.

Naomi, pleased, flashed a quick smile before walking to the nearest picnic table for a flat surface on which to write. She took her time with her letters, occasionally pressing down too hard in her concentration to where the sharpie ink pooled in little blotches. Dotting the "i", Naomi turned to show a proud Gina her work before peeling the sticker free of its backing and pressing it firmly to her chest.

"Okay, Emily. We're splitting up for a little while, so I need you to wait over there where that nice lady is. I'm going to be right here. Just listen and mind your manners, sweetheart. And have fun!"

The look on Emily's face as Jenna gently pushed her in the right direction was not one of fun.

"I'm going now," Naomi informed Gina, eyes distractedly following Emily's slow shuffle towards the growing crowd of children.

"Okay, chick pea. Play nice, yes?"

Naomi appeased Gina with a non-committal nod of her head and shrug of her shoulders before bee lining to Emily's side, falling in stride with her as she shoved her hands back into her pockets. Emily glanced at Naomi out of the corner of her eye, keeping her face forward.

"You look scared."

"I'm not."

Naomi smiled and slumped inward to peer closer at Emily. "No?"

"No. I just don't want to be here." Emily slowed her pace the nearer they grew to the bustling children, eventually coming to a stop at the outer edge of the conglomerate.

"Me either."

Emily finally turned her head to look at Naomi, eyes skipping from her face to the slightly off-centered name-tag brandished across Naomi's chest. Judging by her increasingly furrowed brow, Emily was trying to read the legible letters, lips jutting in a pout of concentration. Eventually, she conceded.

"What does that say?"

"Naomi," the blonde said simply.

Emily's eyes relaxed, tracing over Naomi's handwriting one more time before she looked up. "I'm-"

"-Emily" Naomi beat the brunette to the punch, the corner of her lips tugging into a smile. "Hi."

* * *

"Shall we take a seat?" Gina asked Jenna, whose eyes followed after Emily and Naomi like a hawk. It took her a beat to turn her head back to Gina, blinking a few times as she tried to remember what she had just heard. Looking around, seeing the other parents beginning to take seats in the right-half of the pavilion, what Gina had said finally clicked.

"Oh. Yes. Of course."

The two women stood looking at each other, Gina pleasantly, Jenna anxiously, until finally Jenna walked ahead of Gina towards the tables, settling at the edge of the nearest empty bench. Gina sat across from her.

"Is she your first?" Gina asked despite Jenna's efforts to remain politely stand-offish. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, Jenna shifted in her seat to better face Gina. "You watch her like a newborn."

"In a sense. She's a twin. The younger twin. But they're both my firsts. Both my baby girls . . ."

"Twins? Oh, lovely! Where's your other daughter?"

"With her father," was Jenna's minimalistic reply, hoping any follow-up questions would eventually peter off if she continued to be concise in her replies. The questions had stopped. At least verbally. But Gina's piqued interest was sorely apparent in the way she continued to look on and lean in, as if Jenna had merely taken a pause in the middle of some epic story. It didn't take much to twist Jenna's arm. After all, hadn't she brought Emily to this event for the very reason of opening her up? The example started here.

"Katherine and Emily are identical twins. Up until recently, they've shared just about everything. Rooms, classes, friends, pets . . ." Jenna paused and wet her lips, somewhat taken aback at how easily she felt herself fall into a flow. Before she could decide whether this was something she wanted or not, she found herself continuing. "They fight a lot for sisters. Always have since the moment they learned to sass. But they always make up. I've never had to intervene. Just as I would piece together that they were at odds, they'd go and talk it out in that gibberish of theirs . . . And what do you know? Two minutes later they're hand in hand and terrorizing me again."

Gina laughed, particularly enjoying the physical comedy of Jenna's dialogue. She had her fingers to her temples at the very thought of their shenanigans, and Jenna seemed to stay there until she came to, somewhat surprised by Gina's reaction. She stared for a moment until she too gave a soft, appreciative chuckle. Placing her hands neatly in front of her on the picnic table between them, Jenna continued.

"But lately . . . lately it's been different. My mother warned me the second we saw my ultrasound that I needed to be mindful about asserting the girls' 'twindividuality'." Jenna rolled her eyes upward and sighed. "This . . . parenting theory, I suppose, dissuading homogenizing twins' social interactions. Not treating them like a unit. Being mindful of providing them with different social circles." The way Jenna spoke, trying to fairly represent the term while stomaching the nausea of hearing it for the thousandth time, seemed like perhaps at one point she had considered the advice until the pretentious splicing of words had been articulated one too many times. "They're sisters. They should grow up like sisters. Why should I treat them any differently just because they're twins?" Although Jenna asserted her point with vindication, her hard eyes softened, lips parting with a short, quick inhale.

"I've come to notice lately, that Katie has been much more . . . brash towards her sister and Emily more complacent. Teachers say at school that Katie is the decision-maker, dictating where she and Emily sit and who may or may not join them in group activities." Jenna wet her lips. "I don't know if what my mother has been trying to tell me has any truth in it, but if there is a possibility that Katie's shadow is growing too long . . . I just want what's best for them. I just want my Emily to be brave."

By the end of it all, Jenna looked equal parts relieved and exhausted, slumping back more fully into her seat, having leaned further and further in as she had been talking. Gina's laced hands moved from her lips where a small, but persisting smile had been hiding, unlocking them to press her palm against the back of Jenna's hand upon the table.

"I think parenting is 10% preparedness and 90% willingness to improvise. That's just my opinion. But what I do know is that, above all, parenting is 100% love." Gina patted Jenna's hand. "Emily will be just fine."

A cheer from the children and the thunder of a pint-sized stampede captured most of the parents' attentions, Gina and Jenna included as their heads turned. Taking off like soda spray from a shaken can, the children ran from the pavilion towards the open soccer field. Naomi and Emily brought up the rear, neither unable to be bothered with the hassle of running.

Gina's eyes brightened as the kids took to sides, joining one line or another parallel to one another. "Unless they're playing dodge-ball. Your girl is quite the china doll."

* * *

It was just her luck to be staring at Emily across the field on opposing teams.

After getting everyone's attention, the adults had instructed the children to stand in a circle. Naomi, eager to get through the motions and reclaim the rest of her precious weekend afternoon, moved with the rest of the children to make a parameter. To her surprise, Emily trailed wordlessly behind her, mindful to keep close until they were both integrated in the circle, side by side, with no further threat of someone stepping between them. As soon as everyone was in place, the adults had everyone say their name in order. After that, they had the children alternate counting between one and two.

Emily, "One".

Naomi, "Two".

"Alright, now that everyone has a number, who all here is familiar with Red Rover?"

The circle had erupted in excited chatter before the volunteers could quiet the children and break down the rules for the benefit of the lost and less enthusiastic faces of the group.

Naomi, just thinking how inconveniently dressed poor Emily was for such a game in her mustard yellow leggings and navy shirt-and-skirt combo, couldn't help but notice a distinct look of disappointment in Emily's eyes as they were instructed to split into teams according to their number. Before Naomi could find a peer that looked as if he or she were willing to trade numbers with her, the adults had released them from the pavilion.

Frowning and shrugging in Emily's direction, the two stuck with one another until they reached the soccer field, Naomi going left, leaving Emily to join her team on the right.

Naomi's team chattered amongst themselves, a trio of boys, brothers by the looks of them, taking it upon themselves to speak the loudest and most frequently. Soon enough, the team was deferring to their leadership as the eldest brother spread the name of their first call-over.

"We're calling over Justin, got it? Everyone hold tight!"

"Hold tight. You hear that?" Naomi murmured to the boys on either side of her as she extended her hands for them to take. The boys giggled and made blanching faces at one another, sticking out their tongues and giggling more before hesitantly putting their hands in Naomi's. As sticky and warm as they were, Naomi squeezed both hands as the chant from their end began.

"Red Rover, Red Rover-"

"You need to actually hold my hand," Naomi instructed tersely to the boy on her right, who seemed to be under the impression that she was a carrier of cooties and more than just a little contagious. His grubby fingers wiggled in her grasp as he inched somehow farther away from her.

"Send Justin right over!"

A tall boy's face on the other team lit up at his name and with a grin, he rounded back his shoulders before breaking into a full sprint. Naomi, preoccupied with deciding whether he was nine or ten, noticed his trajectory tilting inward towards her. She tried to grasp the hand of her reluctant partner tighter in the last few seconds they had, but the effort was futile, Justin bursting through them like an oiled-up pig.

Naomi staggered to regain her footing, shaking her arm lightly, already feeling the blossoming of bruises. Before she could shoot an "I told you," towards the boy that had been her other chain link just moments before, he was following Justin back to the other team, chosen as the bounty of the bout. Naomi looked to her replacement partner as she side-stepped to close the gap, groaning inwardly as her palm slipped into his. For as much sweat as had already accumulated on his brow, his clammy hands were ten times worse.

The game continued for another dozen rounds or so, finding Naomi's team dwindling as kid after kid busted through the chinks in their chain. More often than not, the runners opted to burst through Naomi's link, which had somehow become the Achilles' heel in the eyes of the other team. And if the other team's choices in stealing team members were any indication, Naomi herself was practically a curse.

"Call the girl with the bow over!" One of the boys, tired of losing, suggested to the approving mumble of the team. There were a handful of girls on the opposite team fitting the description, but none quite so blatantly fitting the bill as Emily. With her interest in the game rekindling, Naomi squared her feet and shoulders and clasped onto her teammates' hands tight. For the first time since the game started, she joined in on the chant.

"Red Rover, Red Rover, send Emily right over!"

Emily stepped forward out of her team's bolstering ranks, catching Naomi's eye before starting in a run. It was obvious from the get-go that Emily intended to pass through Naomi and while she was fairly confident she could at the very least keep Emily of all people from breaking through, she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to. The decision, however, was made before she could decide to throw the match, Emily pushing her weight half-heartedly into the linked arms of Naomi and her partner before slumping slightly over the unbroken bond. With her head down, she took a few steps backwards to recover, looking up to see if Naomi was amongst her teammates in their elated cheers.

She wasn't.

Naomi gawked for a moment, not entirely sure what had just happened. After a beat, Emily shifted her weight from one hip to the other, looking on at Naomi expectantly before an older boy a little ways down the chain stepped out of line and waved an arm to catch her attention.

"Hey! You can stand by me!"

Emily altogether ignored him, pursing her lips as she continued to look at Naomi.

That's when it clicked.

With a small "oh", Naomi dropped hands with the boy to her left, stepping away from him to make way for Emily. She wiped her hand down the leg of her overalls before offering it to Emily. With the smallest hint of a smile, Emily took Naomi's hands and fell into place.

Emily's hand was small, but had a presence to it, a warmth that could not be ignored. A round came and went before Naomi even knew what was happening. It wasn't until Emily's fingers worked themselves between her own that she drew out of her head, turning to give Emily a wide-eyed stare. Her hand had paralyzed at the sensation, her fingers stiff and still, unsure of whether to curl around Emily's or pull away.

"Hold my hand," Emily prompted softly before nodding her head in the direction of the other team. A quick side-long glance told Naomi that they would have incoming in a matter of seconds, the tail end of the chant finally registering to her momentarily-deaf ears.

Meshing their fingers more comfortably together, Naomi gripped Emily's hand tightly, surprised to find that Emily returned every ounce of pressure given. They both looked away from their hands confidently ahead, witnessing the swift approach of a girl easily two grades above them. Her hips collided into Naomi's and Emily's arms and while they staggered backwards, they clung to one another like industrial Velcro, bouncing back to deject the girl's efforts.

Defeated, the girl waited for the chain to accept her. Emily quickly let go of the hand of the young boy to her left, squeezing Naomi's hand just the slightest bit tighter as if just the thought of someone coming between them was enough to put her on the offensive. As their newest team member took Emily's hand and fell into place, Naomi knew they would win. Everyone was going to want to try and break through them now. And every one of them was going to fail.

* * *

The game never did come to a decisive victory, though the numbers favored Naomi's and Emily's team at last count. After an hour and a few restless parents commenting on the slowly setting sun, the volunteers called off the game and corralled the children back to the pavilion. Jenna was quick to arrive at Emily's side, licking her thumb before rubbing away smudges that had somehow managed to get over Emily's arms. Gina was not far behind, brandishing a package of Garibaldi biscuits at Naomi before motioning her daughter to join her at the picnic table.

"Did you have fun?" Gina asked as Naomi sat across from her, settling on her shins so that her vision better cleared the table top. Naomi nodded distractedly, hungry eyes watching Gina work open the tricky Crawford's brand package. Breaking off a square, Gina placed it in Naomi's open and expecting palm, stacking a few more atop it the longer Naomi's hand remained put. Finally satisfied, Naomi retracted her hand full of biscuits and bit into one, chewing first quickly before slowing in a thought. "Can Emily have some?"

Gina's eyes flitted to Emily at her mention, noting that Jenna had momentarily left her side to take a phone call, a finger pressed to her ear as she strained to hear above the noise of the pavilion. "I think she'd like that."

It was all the permission Naomi needed, dismissing herself from the table without so much as a word, already completely set to her task at hand.

Approaching Emily, Naomi extended a biscuit to her. "To the victor goes the spoils."

"Spoils?" Emily asked, eyes jumping from Naomi's offering to the girl's face, clearly unfamiliar with the word.

"You know. Spoils. Like treasure."

Emily tried the word on for size, muttering it beneath her breath, "Spoils. Spoils . . ." until it morphed into something so ridiculously sounding, that Emily couldn't help but accentuate how silly it came across. "Spoiyulzzz." Emily giggled, accepting a biscuit, whispering "spoiyulzzz" to it before taking a bite.

Naomi tried her best not to burst into laughter. "You're strange. You know that?"

"Careful," Emily mumbled between a mouthful of dough and currant, swallowing before continuing. "I might be the only friend you've made."

"We're friends?" Naomi was unable to hide the surprise in either her expression or her voice as she watched Emily scarf down the last of her biscuit with a nod before holding her hand out for another one. Naomi obliged.

"You're mine," Emily stated simply, taking her time with her second helping as she nibbled at the four corners.

Naomi tried to wrap her head around how Emily could be so matter-of-fact in her decision until she realized it had been just that. A decision. Emily wanted to be her friend. And so she was.

"You're mine, too," Naomi reciprocated with a small smile, offering Emily another Garibaldi as the brunette polished off her second.

Emily refused politely with a shake of her head and instead watched as Naomi tucked into what remained of her snack. Just as Naomi had managed to stuff an entire square into her mouth, a devious smirk flashed across Emily's face. Leaning in to Naomi's ear, Emily murmured "spoiyulzzz", before retreating to meet her mother, leaving Naomi to sputter on her laughter.

* * *

**Author's Note: For those of you reading _Who's Gonna Save Me?_, first of all, thank you. Secondly, due to the unexpected amount of time it took to produce this one-shot, _WGSM?_'s next chapter will more than likely be delayed. I am hoping that it will only be a week's push-back. Thank you for your understanding. I hope you enjoyed _Spoils_!**


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